


The Audience

by logicalDemoness



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, It's not really about Cecilos but it is set when they're dating, Meta, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, episode format, fourth wall shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logicalDemoness/pseuds/logicalDemoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new audience from out of town comes in to watch Cecil record. Plus, Community Calendar and a word from our sponsors. (Episode format)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Audience

Seeing is not believing. Hearing is not knowing. Being is not understanding. Welcome to Night Vale. 

\---

Listeners, before we begin, I should inform you of the unusual development occurring in the studio today. The entire front wall of my recording booth, the one with the window facing out onto Euclid St., has vanished, and now opens on to an endless flat expanse of desert, with gunmetal clouds roiling in the sky above. The field is full of people, thousands of people of all shapes, sizes and nationalities, and they are all staring at me intently. Many of them have their eyes closed, and some appear to have no eyes at all, yet I can sense that these people are still, in their own way, gazing at me. Gazing _into_ me. I can feel it like a thousand pinpricks on the back of my skull. I do not recognize anyone, and I would guess that none of them are Night Vale citizens. Some of them whisper among themselves, and I cannot make out what they are saying, but I am almost sure I heard my own name several times.

I must admit their stares make me slightly uneasy. I prefer the warm, cozy solitude of the recording booth to performing in front of an audience - that's why I went into radio and not television, after all. But I am a professional, and I will not let this deter me from bringing you the news you need to hear. I have sent our intern Kendra outside to report on the apparent disturbance in reality. So let's move on to the Community Calendar while this story develops. 

\---

On Monday, the Night Vale Community Theater will be hosting a one night only performance of Kafka's _The Metamorphosis_ in Mission Grove Park, starring a real sentient cockroach in the role of Gregor Samsa. Admission is free, but come early to get the best view. 

Tuesday, the Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area definitely _will not_ be holding a boat show and regatta. City Council would like to remind all citizens that the waterfront does not exist, has never existed, and that if you hear any sounds resembling waves, seagulls, or fog horns, you are hallucinating and should report yourself for re-education immediately.

On Thursday, the Bloodstone Factory is celebrating its 150th anniversary by opening its doors to public tours. Bring your children into the depths of the subterranean manufacturing complex and learn about this exciting aspect of local history from the chittering, once-human workers themselves. You might even find yourself chosen by them! Admission is pay-what-you-can and donations are accepted in the form of cash, credit, or bodily fluids.

This Friday there will be a pet/daughter swap meet at the farmer's market, sponsored by Crazy Ed's Discount Superstore. If you have an unwanted pet or daughter and are looking to upgrade to a newer model, Crazy Ed has a kid or a lizard for you! Please note that due to overstocking, calico cats and fruit bats will no longer be accepted.

This has been Community Calendar.

\---

This just in, listeners. Intern Kendra has informed me via text message that my mysterious audience is visible from Euclid St., although the street itself is apparently unchanged, and it is possible to pass right through the watchers, which is good news for traffic. She tells me she can see me through the window, though I cannot see her. She adds that when she looked at me, she could hear my voice clear as a bell, and she felt compelled to keep looking, keep listening. I've texted her back to ask her if she has tried to communicate with the people, but have received no response. 

Additionally, reports are starting to come in of other, smaller groups of people appearing around town. Trish Hidge at City Hall called in to say she saw a number of them trying to peer over the fence of the dog park as she was flying to work. She says she heard them talking among themselves, speculating about what lies within, which is an activity I must stress you _do not_ partake in. Larry Leroy, out on the edge of town, reports having seen them slowly shuffling into town along the side of Route 800 just before sunrise this morning. He says they moved in single file and came from the north - which I personally am greatly relieved to hear. I mean that's the opposite direction to Desert Bluffs, so they're definitely not from there, which means they're probably okay people, right? 

\---

And now, a word from our sponsors.

You wake up feeling like something is missing. Of course you wake up feeling like that every day, but this time it’s different. Not the general malaise of a life you feel you have no control over, but a palpable sense that what was once here is now gone. You throw off the blankets, oddly stiff and resistant to your movement, and look outside. The trees are bent as if being tossed by strong desert winds, but are as still as a photograph. In the distance you can see birds hanging motionless in the air.

You get dressed and go downstairs. In the kitchen your husband is eternally pouring coffee. You try to shake him out of it, but all you accomplish is slightly re-positioning him. You run out of the house, hands trembling. The streets are packed with people stopped in the middle of their morning routine. You walk aimlessly among the tableau that has become your world. They have no time left, but you? You have all the time in the world.

_Burger King: Have it your way._

\---

Ah! Hold on, listeners! Carlos has just sent a photo to my phone, which he claims depicts a number of the mystery people who have just appeared in his lab. The photo shows only blurred blobs of light among the beakers and flasks, but he swears there are apparitions staring at them. I must ask him more about them at dinner tonight. He has promised to take me to Makimono Sushi to make up for staying late at the lab for the last four nights in a row, and -

Now this is interesting. It seems many of my guests have perked up at my mentioning Carlos just now. They are now excitedly chattering among themselves and some of them are moving toward me. Previously, none of them had crossed the line separating my studio from whatever other reality they inhabit, but now some of them are coming right up to my desk. They are looking me straight in the eye and some of them are taking notes. 

Now they are surrounding me, and pushing up against me. Contrary to Kendra's message, they are quite solid. Listeners, surely you can hear their loud whispering now. I apologize for this, and I am going to work my way out and into a different recording booth so that I may finish this broadcast in peace. Until then, I leave you with... [the weather.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3xgvhsPJgA)

\---

I am back, listeners, in my usual booth. Events have taken an odd turn. As I walked down the hallway, I saw that the door to Station Management's office was... open. And beyond it appeared to be an apartment living room, with recording equipment set up at a desk. A man wearing headphones and looking down at notes in his hand came through the door. He looked up, then looked very lost. He asked me where he was and who I was, and I introduced myself. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. The pause was very awkward. He looked as if he were trying to process a great truth of existence, though all I told him was my name and that we were in Night Vale Community Radio. Then he simply said, "This didn't happen," and backed through the door and closed it. I tried to open it again, but it was locked as usual and I could see the thrashing of Station Management from within. 

I may never know who that stranger was, but this is the part that struck me, listeners: his voice sounded exactly like my own.

My guests are still watching me, but they have retreated behind the line, and they are beginning to fade from my sight. The window onto Euclid is visible again, and the watchers are ghosts superimposed upon it, like reflections in the glass. They fade more with each passing second. Unfortunately, I believe Intern Kendra is still with them. I cannot see her but she has not gotten back to me since I texted her. To the parents and loved ones of Kendra, I send my condolences. The memorial will be held at 8:00 tomorrow in the usual place.

Dear listeners, I do not know what plane of existence crossed paths with our own today, but I feel sure that the people who passed through our fair town meant us no harm. I think they were just as lost and confused and terrified as any of us are on any given day, and I find it comforting to think that people are essentially the same no matter where they come from, or what they have seen, or what they have become. I hope they find contentment wherever they are now, whatever they were looking for. And I hope the same for all of you.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for WTNVCon. The prompt was "Someone new comes to town" and the advert segment was for a different prompt, "A word from our sponsors" (and was originally much longer).  
> This version is expanded quite a bit from the original prompt fill. I wanted to try my hand at writing a plausible episode, with side segments and little continuity nods and whatnot.  
> Today's weather was "I'm Letting Go" by Michael Guy Bowman, off the album "Comfortable Bugs". You should definitely check out his Bandcamp at http://bowman.bandcamp.com/ and buy something.  
> Thanks to J, and indirectly to Lil Sis, for the bit about the pet/daughter swap meet.


End file.
